


We Make it Rain

by elliebird



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25941268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliebird/pseuds/elliebird
Summary: Inspired by a rainy Insta story Tyler posted in the fall of 2019 when they were filming season 2.
Relationships: Tyler Blackburn/Michael Vlamis
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	We Make it Rain

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written and posted in 2019

Tyler had been back in Santa Fe for nineteen hours. He’d woken before the daylight to the sound of rain on the adobe roof, slanting sideways against the windows, already missing LA.

He was cocooned in the living room in a nest of pillows, reading one of the less depressing books on his list. He’d been there for the better part of the day when he heard the sound of an engine in the driveway. 

He hadn’t bothered with actual clothes. He was dressed in threadbare sweats, one of Chandler’s old hoodies and a pair of wild socks Michael had left behind once when they were in a hurry. 

He set his book on the coffee table and stood. His joints ached. 

He watched from the entryway of his rented house as Michael climbed from his car and hurried through the sheet of rain. He was dressed in a neon green button-down, screen printed with orange hibiscus. He’d left most of the buttons undone and he was wearing those damn glasses that made Tyler forget things like his personal rules for fucking co-stars and his own damn name. 

Michael came barreling to a stop in the open doorway, soaking wet. 

Their eyes met, a momentary hesitation, before Michael grinned at him, hair in his eyes and his glasses fogged, lips quirked in that familiar way that had knocked Tyler sideways from the beginning. The knot that had settled beneath his ribs upon coming back loosened and unfurled.  
Michael watched Tyler like he was trying to memorize his face. Tyler still wasn’t good at this part. 

“You’re early,” he said instead, catching the wet hem of Michael’s shirt and giving it a tug. 

Michael met him halfway. He didn’t care that Michael was soaked or that maybe they should have that conversation they’d been avoiding since they started sleeping together. 

“I missed you, too,” Michael said but there was nothing sarcastic in the low pitch of his voice, the slip of his fingertips at the small of Tyler’s back, the brush of his lips right against his jaw where Tyler fell apart with the right kind of attention. 

Michael Vlamis had been taking Tyler by surprise since the morning they met, eighteen months ago at their first table read as a cast. He was a shameless flirt, eager for attention and as kind a person as Tyler’d ever met. 

He wasn’t expecting the careful way Michael kissed him. The way he slipped his hand beneath Tyler’s sweatshirt, palm flat to the warm, sensitive skin at the small of his back and hauled him close. He wasn’t expecting the race of his pulse or the helpless way he gripped Michael’s arms where his skin was sticky from the rain and clung to him. 

A half dozen thoughts crowded their way for attention. A rain-soaked reunion kiss in an open doorway was bigger than fuck buddies or co-stars with benefits. He struggled to catch up, to calm his frantic heartbeat, to open his mouth and ask what the hell. 

Michael shivered. Tyler huffed a startled laugh, grateful for an excuse to put some space between them. This was just for fun. A little fucking between friends. The desperation he felt, the wave of relief and then pleasure at watching Michael climb out of his car, had broadsided him. 

He pulled his sweatshirt off, leaving him shirtless. “Don’t track water through the house,” he said over his shoulder, biting back a grin as Michael started fumbling at the buttons on his rain-soaked shirt. 

Tyler had the walk-in shower going and had stripped naked when Michael caught up to him. He had his arms full of his discarded clothes and was shamelessly watching Tyler. 

Tyler’s seven million social media followers knew he had a bit of a thing for exhibitionism. But nothing got him off the way Michael’s eyes on him did. 

He stepped into the shower, his back to Michael, letting him look his fill. “You coming?” he asked after a beat, unable to keep the amusement from his voice. 

Michael dropped his things on the counter. “So fucking smug,” he said, looking pleased about it. Tyler flashed him his best Hollywood grin and made a show of arching his back as he leaned against the wall, under the spray of hot water. 

He watched openly as Michael climbed in with him, his heart knocking wildly. When had things gotten so serious? 

Michael didn’t know how - or when - to shut up. He loved ridiculously loud shirts from LA’s wealth of thrift stores, thought Michelob was worth drinking and thrived when all eyes were on him. Tyler was stupidly fond of him, doing his best to reign it in. Less was always more when dealing with Vlamis. Tyler had learned that the hard way. And here he was, heart in his throat, thinking that somewhere between table reads and birthday celebrations, he’d fallen way in over his head. 

Michael was golden everywhere, like he’d been spending his time naked and outdoors. The ten “off- season” pounds that had settled around his middle were gone. He was all muscle, ridges and indents - from the cut of hips to the planes of his belly - that Tyler wanted to trace with his fingertips, his lips, his tongue. 

Michael kissed Tyler’s open mouth, the tip of his chin, his jaw. He let out a long breath like he was expelling weeks’ worth of tension and buried his face in Tyler’s shoulder. 

Tyler touched him. He put his palms on Michael’s hot, wet back, fingers wide and mapped his skin from his shoulder blades to the dip of his spine to the twin dimples above his ass. 

Months of unspoken feelings hovered between them. Tyler pushed his hand into Michael’s hair, gripped his nape and urged him up until they were kissing under the spray of water, hungry and urgent. 

There were things Tyler wanted to say. He kissed Michael harder, until they were breathless, hoping Michael understood what he couldn’t say out loud. 

It wasn’t everything, but it was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I'm on [Tumblr](https://elliebirdthings.tumblr.com/)


End file.
